QUICK DELICACY FOR SINGLES

What name do you suggest we give to this delicacy? I know a lot of you would be completely stunned to see me delve into the corridors of cooking. But, for your information, i’m an exceptional A-class rated cook! You can decide to believe it or not.

Now, i’m going to introduce you to a delicacy with immeasurable singularity. A delicacy that would not make you worry about marriage if single, or miss your spouse if divorced. Let’s get to the kitchen!

The basic prerequisite for sumptuous meals is fresh ingredients. Though this meal may look familiar to you if you’ve lived in the slums before or you’re still living there, i bet it is profoundly unique.

Most often, when we cook plain rice, we rush to Sister Atswei’s place to get some fried fish and pepper to go with it. But that’s too complex and time-wasting.

We will need the following ingredients for our meal;

·         50p worth of edible oil

·         Two (2) cups of rice

·         Beef (less fatty)

·         Green pepper

·         Large onions

·         salt

·         Clean water

To start with, put edible oil on fire and allow it some few minutes to simmer. Cut the beef into cube shapes and give it the fry of its life. Frugally slice the onions and green pepper, and add to the simmering oil. Stir at regular intervals to allow for uniform fry of ingredients.

If you are a lady, this delicacy goes with Beyonce’s “All the single ladies”. If a man, R. Kelly’s “A woman’s threat”.

Don’t you think we’ve been too harsh on the ingredients on the fire? Now, let’s cool these inmates of hell with some reasonable amount of water. Nah, wait a minute. Let’s put the thoroughly washed rice into it first. Stir and ensure that the ingredients are madly in love with each other. Then, add the water and salt. Taste, to see if the salt meets your taste.

We have to wait about 8 minutes to enjoy our delicacy. But waiting naked like that is boring, don’t you think, dear? So why don’t we reflect and ponder on this food for thought from an American writer called Thoreau. To quote him, “If a man does not keep pace with his companion, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer”.

Food is ready! Where is my plate?

MOULDING MOULD

I would’ve put my last bet on Betty,
Betty Mould,
Current Attorney General of Ghana,
But my desired shape which i preferred her to take,
Has disappointingly attained fiction,
Parochial party aspirations and sentiments are gradually,
Moulding Mould,
Into a shape,
That would make her poorly marketable,
And gutter her reputation,

The prayer of the humble citizens of Ghana,
People,
Whose unpalatable livelihood would be threatened,
Should ‘fear and panic’ metamorphosed into something unspeakable,
Their prayer is simply this,
Mould, mould your own self,
Assume the shape you desired,
Refuse to dance to party tunes,
Ignore wide manipulative eyes,
Because, inevitably,
When you turn icy,
It is your records and achievement,
That would make you spicy.

LIKE MASTER, LIKE SERVANT

Effective security (defence) mechanisms and control over the world market. The afore-mentioned give developed countries the upper hand. This sustained trend can be traced to the stability of their currency and efficient tax systems. Britain is a perfect example with such exciting features. Ghana is simply just struggling to make it happen. Cameron-Clegg coalition was 100 days old last Wednesday and already, interesting fillas are coming from their territories.

Britain was the former colonial master of Ghana. Yes, I know that we all know about that but a ‘matter of fact’ made me say it. It seems that a certain amount of similarities exist between Britain and Ghana.

Mills’ government, within 100 days, resorted to strict austerity in a bid to shield the country from the global economic meltdown and tackle internal economic problems as well. This culture was moreover manifested in ministerial appointments. Now, how is Britain handling its share of the crisis? The coalition government have recognised the importance of austerity and this is backed by 56% of the population. They’ve planned to embark on sprinting cuts in some government organs and allow further tax increases.

Furthermore, it appears public confidence in the Mills’ government is steadily waning and in Britain, already 31% of the population have lost confidence in the coalition government, with 57% describing it as ‘disappointing’, a survey conducted by Harris, a political correspondent who interviewed a sample of 1,057 adults online across the UK between August 12-13 reveals.

Additionally, unemployment in Ghana is a war we’ve yet not won. It is even said that thousands of the youth enter the job market with no employable skills. Similarly, in Britain, the unemployment rate has reached 2.5 million and still rising.

Britain’s national debt is at 950 billion Pounds and it is even predicted to reach 1.1 trillion Pounds in 2011. In 1976, with a budget deficit of 6%, Britain went into bankruptcy and ran to the IMF with a huge bowl to borrow. Against this background, successive governments have been very careful with economic (monetary) policies. Similarly, Ghana, somewhere in the new millennium declared itself ‘HIPC’. It is time we stop parading for alms and resort to local alternatives.

I’m not particularly au fait (familiar) with the cost of defence in Ghana. Maybe I should get myself a copy of the 2010 budget. Nonetheless, I know that the government has spent huge sums on the security apparatus to ameliorate the shaky situation on Bawku. Also, a number of houses in the ever-controversial STX deal have been allocated to the police. And when you see the police beaming with smiles, it is the Single Spine Salary Structure (SSSS). But take a look at the following statistics with respect to the cost of defence in Britain;

·         Total Ministry of Defence budget – 44. 6 billion Pounds.

·         On equipment                                  -   6.1 billion Pounds.

·         On pay and pensions                       - 5. 6 billion Pounds

·         Pay of Chief of Defence staff          -  250,000 Pounds

·         Etc.

Though the expenditure is highly extravagant, it indicates the seriousness the British government attaches to defence. I’m imploring President Mills, who is the Commander-in-Chief, to see the significance of dialogue and proactivity, and continue to be sympathetic to the fragile purse of Ghana.

LOVE JINGLES

The heart smolders,
The eyes gather rains,
Body organs go on strike,
Breaths corroding like the brass aspect of an airplane,
All these prevailing,
Because unrequited love has gained power,

I pray you,
Abductor of my heart,
Dictator of my emotions,
To let the rule of fondness prevail in your courts,
To let your tilting voice silence all uncertainties and fear,
So that together,
Let’s enrol at the University of Love,
And study our new found intercourse,

Permit the sky,
With its numerous bright flaky eyes,
To be proud witness,
Of the merger of our hearts,
And grant my lips the freedom of speech,
To say,
I love you.

Effective security (defence) mechanisms and control over the world market. The afore-mentioned give developed countries the upper hand. This sustained trend can be traced to the stability of their currency and efficient tax systems. Britain is a perfect example with such exciting features. Ghana is simply just struggling to make it happen. Cameron-Clegg coalition was 100 days old last Wednesday and already, interesting fillas are coming from their territories.

Britain was the former colonial master of Ghana. Yes, I know that we all know about that but a ‘matter of fact’ made me say it. It seems that a certain amount of similarities exist between Britain and Ghana.

Mills’ government, within 100 days, resorted to strict austerity in a bid to shield the country from the global economic meltdown and tackle internal economic problems as well. This culture was moreover manifested in ministerial appointments. Now, how is Britain handling its share of the crisis? The coalition government have recognised the importance of austerity and this is backed by 56% of the population. They’ve planned to embark on sprinting cuts in some government organs and allow further tax increases.

Furthermore, it appears public confidence in the Mills’ government is steadily waning and in Britain, already 31% of the population have lost confidence in the coalition government, with 57% describing it as ‘disappointing’, a survey conducted by Harris, a political correspondent who interviewed a sample of 1,057 adults online across the UK between August 12-13 reveals.

Additionally, unemployment in Ghana is a war we’ve yet not won. It is even said that thousands of the youth enter the job market with no employable skills. Similarly, in Britain, the unemployment rate has reached 2.5 million and still rising.

Britain’s national debt is at 950 billion Pounds and it is even predicted to reach 1.1 trillion Pounds in 2011. In 1976, with a budget deficit of 6%, Britain went into bankruptcy and ran to the IMF with a huge bowl to borrow. Against this background, successive governments have been very careful with economic (monetary) policies. Similarly, Ghana, somewhere in the new millennium declared itself ‘HIPC’. It is time we stop parading for alms and resort to local alternatives.

I’m not particularly au fait (familiar) with the cost of defence in Ghana. Maybe I should get myself a copy of the 2010 budget. Nonetheless, I know that the government has spent huge sums on the security apparatus to ameliorate the shaky situation on Bawku. Also, a number of houses in the ever-controversial STX deal have been allocated to the police. And when you see the police beaming with smiles, it is the Single Spine Salary Structure (SSSS). But take a look at the following statistics with respect to the cost of defence in Britain;

·         Total Ministry of Defence budget – 44. 6 billion Pounds.

·         On equipment                                  -   6.1 billion Pounds.

·         On pay and pensions                       - 5. 6 billion Pounds

·         Pay of Chief of Defence staff          -  250,000 Pounds

·         Etc.

Though the expenditure is highly extravagant, it indicates the seriousness the British government attaches to defence. I’m imploring President Mills, who is the Commander-in-Chief, to see the significance of dialogue and proactivity, and continue to be sympathetic to the fragile purse of Ghana.

MY CONFESSIONS ( A STORY )

Love is a potent force that works behind the scenes. This had been the simple yet intricate philosophy of Stanley. He is in a five-year old relationship with a charming lady who goes by the name Cecilia. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry knows that the hearts of these young lovers are permanently interwoven into each other. To their close significant others, their love is the phoenix of Romeo and Juliet. It is explicable yet not understandable.
 I am very proud and honoured to say that I lived to witness the alpha and omega of this superb intimate intercourse. Well, how did it begin? And how was the ending?
I was a close friend to Stanley. He has a business-like disposition, hairy, and a 21st century book worm. One interesting, or if I may use a more appropriate adjective, beautiful thing about him was that he never laughed. His best effort is a grin. So, when I saw my friend, on a particular day, cheerfully displaying his 32, I knew a big fish has got into the net. After persistent enquiries, I was officially informed that femininity has been gracious to my friend. Stanley is in a relationship!
But who was the girl? You see, at times the little things we take for granted are the very things that sustain us. The newly-found treasure was the fairly dark moderately intelligent girl who sits beside me in class. W-h-a-a-a-t? Cecilia? For a moment, I thought my friend was making a big mistake. But after due consideration, especially looking at the assets the innocent girl  has to offer, my head and heart unanimously conceded that she is worth a place in my friend’s heart. Oh Stanley is highly favoured by the heavens to get such juicy plump lips to suck, accurate torso to hold, and huge pillows to lie on in times of trouble. Their relationship became the question mark I wrestled with for several days.
But does jealousy respect friendship? Well, I leave it for you to answer, but through my personal lens, sometimes. The pitiable fact is that I love Cecilia. I’ve battled with this unrequited love for quite some time now. I earnestly prayed for moments to tell her the three strong almighty letter words, ‘I LOVE YOU’. I just couldn’t. I admit I was a coward in that respect. But I was brave in demonstrating my feelings. But she sees all my passionate mannerisms as friendly. Is it friendly to take somebody to the Darius shopping mall to watch ‘Titanic’ at Ernesto Cinema? Is it friendly to burn a bunch of contemporary Westlife and Celine Dion soul-search hits for her? Is it friendly to give her a warm peck during a breezy evening? Is it friendly? Phew! She just want the words...yes, the words. Damn it!
Now Stanley is stepping in to taint my dreamed family picture. He has just used words to get what i’ve been fasting and praying for. The right ventricle of my heart got amputated when I bumped into them one hot afternoon, launching deep with kiss. You know, sometimes sacrifices has to be made to get certain precious things you are obsessed with. I must do something...really fast!
One afternoon, as usual, Stanley and I went to the post office to offload correspondences. I’m already aware of the content of one of the letter, but poor Stanley, who is wallowing in oblivion. After having lunch, I saw the words “BROKEN HEART” nicely written on the forehead of my colleague after he has read the letter. This was the content of the letter;
Hi Stanley,
I heard that you have found love in a girl called Cecilia. I am not surprised. She is sexy and so romantic. It is a miracle to hear that she has switched her sexual preferences. But that doesn’t bother me...even to the extent that she dumped me for you. Better still, I am coping and have found a much more exciting lover.
I just want to wish you well in your relationship with her. Treat her well, at least, for me.

Her Former lover,
Tracy Queen
One thing I know about my friend is his harsh abhorrence and intolerance of same-sex relationships. I just allowed him a couple of minutes to mourn the death of the relationship between him and Cecilia and afterwards, I generously handed him a handkerchief. I personally broke the termination of the romantic appointment to Cecilia and did it with impeccable professionalism. An obituary of love has been declared. Period!
For the successive months, Stanley wasn’t himself. He did not eat, bath regularly, combed his hair or even talk. I thought this would be momentary, but it wasn’t. The situation is now becoming serious. I tried to cheer him up but like the saying goes, ‘you can take a horse to a river but you cannot force it to drink.’
But one day I chanced upon a particular verse in the Gospel according to Matthew that haunted my conscience. It was Matthew 7. 12, the raw material from which the golden rule was manufactured. “Treat others as you want them to treat you”. Oh God, what have I done?
I exploited several alternatives to repair what I have damaged. To mend the hearts I have broken. Should I confess to Stanley? Nah. It would mark the end of our very aged friendship. I got myself into a serene corner, allowed my medulla oblongata to preside over the cerebrum and the cerebellum, and embark on repairs.
Stanley’s birthday was on-going. Drinks were flowing whilst the air was busy blowing the fragrance of cakes, fried rice and other sumptuous meals here and there. Everybody thinks my paddy is excited and I am the only one who thinks otherwise. I’m going to give my friend his bona fide property. It is better to die a bachelor than with guilt. That has been my current philosophy. Already, i’ve managed to clear the false impression that Cecilia is a lesbian. Now, before I can resign from my ‘repairing’ job, the two love birds must meet to reincarnate romance and warmth. “Stanley, Guess what.” I did not allowed him to answer, “I officially present to you, your heart, your soul, the main character in your wet dreams, the mother of your children, Cecilia.” And my goodness, the shrinkled face of my friend got rejuvenated, and his cheeks were overloaded with the severe elongation of his mouth. Their embrace alone provided clues about the fireworks that would transpire on their honeymoon. I grabbed a bottle of sprite, and rested on the shoulder of a lady who was gradually magnetizing my heart, and murmured into her ears, ‘so you see, let no one say he is happy unless he sees happiness’.

CATCH 22 FEVER

"We are the world. We are the children. We're the ones to make a brighter day so lets start giving, ..." So goes the ever-inspiring song led by the late king of Pop, Michael Jackson, and other reknowned musicians. The theme of this particular historic song calls for empowerment and creation of opportunities to support aspirations and collective objectives.
Thoreau once said, " if you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost, that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them." To some of us, where to even get the requisite materials to start the foundation is a problem. But nevertheless, we never give up! We are unshakably and constantly optimistic and hopeful. After all, a hopeless man is as good as a corpse.
Empowerment and opportunities is what some of us need and crave for. I used to tell my friends that if I meet the president of Ghana and he asks me to make a wish, ... it would be the payment of my fees. Personally, i believe education is the greatest empowerment to humanity. it is an effective medium to transform families, societies, and countries. When I dash rarely worn or under-sized clothes to the deprived, help people in their personal endeavours, broaden the horizon of children through self-development programmes, I feel I can do more if empowered. Thus, when you see me biting my nails, it is not that I relish doing that, but it's because I'm yet to graduate from the university of anguish and fear.
Osagyefo Kwame Nkrumah made a heavy statement some years back. To paraphrase him, he said people are thieves, prostitutes, etc not because they wanted to be so, but rather, their deliquent nature is triggered by the condition in society. Thus, to change them, the conditions must be changed!

THE MIRAGE ( A STORY )

During school

“I do not support the grade point average instituted by the university authorities since it is disincentive to effective leaders with poor academic performance and moreover, who says academic performance positively correlates with effective and competent leadership. I vehemently oppose it. When would student freedom be……..”
“Hey, hey, Bertha. Wait a minute. Breathe in. Just try to relax, okay. I perfectly understand you. But why are so passionate about this issue. I beg to differ, but I am in love with the university’s principle. I mean this is an academic institution, okay. So you see, the issue of academics cannot be ruled out.”
“You are saying this because you are not a victim, right?”
“Listen, eeerm. Anyway, Obrafuor’s latest track with Guru is a hit. I’ve even forgotten the title. And yes, the one called ‘swagger’. I just can’t stand still when I hear those tracks”
“Don’t play smart with me by trying to change the subject?”
“Not at all. I’m just saying something that just came into my mind, you know”
“Kwabena, I know you very well, you are really fond of doing this”
I really enjoy trivializing serious issues with Bertha. I mean, she is the kind of person who says her piece of mind. I appreciate her manner of arguing without being unnecessarily vociferous.
“K, what do you think we should do during this vacation? I’m thinking we should go to an interesting place, have fun and de-stress.”
“I think we should rob somebody”
“I’m really serious, K.”
“Okay. I think we should try a place like my room and explore things”
“Explore what? The rats, cockroaches, and other only God knows what. Stop the joke.”
“Okay. Then how about the Kakum national park or Aburi gardens. You know I’ve never been there before. But Bertha, hmm. I ….. I …..”
“what?”
“Erhmm. You see I bought a lot of books during this semester and participated in a lot of programmes and ate most often at the cafeteria and patronized taxis and ….”
“And I will foot the entire bill. You don’t have to narrate all these concocted stories to me. It’s my initiative so I will finance it, Mr. Frugality.”


Several years later

We’ve now completed our tertiary education with excellence. I’m especially pre-occupied with several pressing issues; getting a well-paying job, a comfortable and ultra-modern apartment, making profitable investments and the lists are just endless. Bertha, on the other hand, is fortunate enough to have everything. Frankly speaking, she has been my financial bedrock and I’m particularly perturbed with this. It makes me feel less man; a shameless, incompetent, parasite. But she has been very supportive and I have always tried in subtle ways to reciprocate her benevolence.

I was in my ramshackled apartment reading one of the Ghanaian newspapers when I heard a stern knock on my door. You know, for the past two months I have not paid my rent so things are not flowing fluently between me and my landlord. But I’ve already rehearsed what to tell him if he comes this time round. So as usual, I wore a sad looking face, walked up to the door, opened it and …………………..
“mashe eyiten”
“kolikoli”
It was Quaye. An old “lai momo” of mine.
“Charlie, come with in. Eeii, long time no see”
“I dey ooo. You don’t ask of me, you don’t call me. K, this one deaaa you no force”
“It not like that. I’m been busy. That’s all. But the other time I flashed you why didn’t you call”
“because I’m not in your closet”
My room was now inundated with laughter. I bet you, Quaye can make you split your jaws. He’s overwhelmingly humorous and gregarious. And lest I forget, a great talkative he is.
“K, you look fresh and sporty. And look at those muscles. You’ve really changed, now you look like a man. But I won’t give you that title unless you prove it. (He took the newspaper and read the headlines). Sure. All of them should be prosecuted. Look at their bellies like a woman pregnant with twins. These public officials are corrupt to the core. All of them should be sent to the prison and allowed only a night in a year to have quality evening devotion with their wives. I mean, no matter the gravity of the crime committed, you shouldn’t deny a man that right. (He continued to talk and talk and talk). Yes, I have this food for thought exclusively for you. By the way, did you do your morning devotion today?”
“Of course. I did.”
“Okay, then tell me yours and I would tell you mine”
“Romans 3.23 says that “For all have sinned and are fallen short of the glory of God”. As humans, the Bible makes us understand that we all sinned and even our righteousness …”
“Is a filthy rag before God. That’s the spiritual aspect. Let me complement it with errrmm something from Chinua Achebe and it goes like these “unless the penis dies young, it would surely eat the bearded meat”
“I don’t quite get it”
“Ooo come on. You are not a small boy. This thing even a kid would understand. Just identify the key words” have a way to getting you aligned to his crazy ideas. As a matter of fact, I got the statement clearly and now, he is looking at me, waiting patiently for me just to pronounce the words. That is his objective. And he knows very well that I’m a bit uncomfortable with those issues.
“Chrife chrife. I know. People like you get bored with the theory of the thing. But when it comes to the practicals, halleluuuuuyah.”
Indisputably, Quaye enjoys cracking jokes around sex and if you don’t know him too well, you would be mistaken when assessing his character and personality. He really made my day. After some hours of jokes, laughter and gossips, I saw him off.


On my way to my house, I decided to give Bertha a call. Since it’s been a while I heard from her. I called several times but she wasn’t picking my call. Maybe she’s busy, I guessed. Some hours later, she called. After exchange of the “how are you’s, how is life treating you’s and others, I decided to disclose my pent-up worries to her.
“Bertha, I appreciate your support and generosity towards me. From school to this moment. You’ve always been there for me. You’ve demonstrated the true essence of friendship to me. I count myself lucky for having a friend like you. But I’m no longer comfortable with that arrangement. I want to feed myself, clothe myself, and have a job. You know, act as a man”
“I understand you, K. But be patient, things would improve”
“when?
“Listen. We can’t discuss this issue on phone. I’ve got to prepare the itinerary and other business documents for my boss, so I’ve got to go. K, be calm, okay. I was pass your place after work”
I’m highly perturbed. Why am I suffering like this when my contemporaries are making it big? If God really cares and supplies our needs, why is He not supplying it now? Or maybe is should be patient, as a Bertha advised. But that’s completely unacceptable. I can’t tolerate the situation anymore. No, no, no, no, things must change. I’m tired of being fed like a toddler. I’ve got to think. Well, she came and we continued with our conversation.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Learn to be patient. Probably, your faith is being tested. You remember the story of Job?”
“But Job was rich before his predicaments started and his story whether imaginary or real doesn’t apply to my situation because I’m already poor and I’m being made poorer and poorer”
“K, take it easy”
“I ca-n-n-‘t take it easy. I can’t continue to wallow in this stinking poverty. You don’t really understand what I’m going through. I’m already experiencing hell. Well, you’ve got a job and things are moving fine with you so how can you really understand my situation. I can’t remain like this anymore. (I just can’t hold my tears but allow it to run on my cheeks.) Just look at me, Bertha. Look at my patched clothes, my sandals, my shoe, my everything – all bearing the trademark of poverty”
“You make me feel bad when you sound like this”
“I’m sorry but look at me. I’m damn sick and tired with my situation”
“And I’m also damn sic-c-k and tired with your behaviour. How can you be so selfish?
Do you think I’m not concerned about your state of affairs? I’m really hurt with your pronouncements. Aaaah, gosh, what makes you think I don’t care?
“It’ not like that. But you see …(before I could complete my statement, her lips is already into mine. Damn, she’s kissing me. I just can’t believe it. I held her neck firmly, look into her dark blue eyes, and started to kiss her roughly. And I could feel my adrenaline releasing reinforcements. Something was telling me “stop, stop, stop” and another one which appears stronger was saying “continue, continue, continue”. Now my heart was beating ‘Gboom’ ‘Gboom’.
“Stop. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have”. Before I could say something, she grabbed her bag and left. But that few minutes really had a therapeutic effect on me. I experienced for a moment heaven on earth; forgot all my troubles, joblessness, etc. it was a wonderful moment. Moreover, I’ve got to know something that Bertha loves me and I love her too.
Within some few months, I got a well-paying job courtesy Bertha. She has accepted my proposal and we’re now in a solid relationship. I’ve now found my bearing; a nice house, a brand new BMW, and whatever I ever desired. We are making preparations for our wedding.
We were shopping in one of the finest malls in Bawku when I noticed this fair sturdy woman staring at us. It made me feel uncomfortable. I looked at her straight in the eyes but she didn’t stop staring. I just decided to ignore her. We are now out of the mall and about to drove off when I remembered an item we forgot to buy. So I went back to the mall. I was settling payment at the counter when this lady approached me.
“Who is that woman to you” she enquired.
“That’s my fiancée. Any problem?” I asked.
But I was surprised at the shock written on the face of the woman as I responded.
“You mean, Amanda is your wife to be?”
“Hey, what’s your problem, woman. By the way, her name is not Amanda, she’s Bertha”.
“This is unbelievable. It can’t be possible. Anyway, take my contact address……. I need to have a serious chat with you concerning your so called fiancée. Please, it is very important.”
I took her address and slipped it into my jacket. Some people are really funny. What at all is her problem? But her non-verbal expressions indicate that she’s really serious about what she’s going to tell me.
“what took you so long”. Bertha asked.
“Well, I had a chat with some woman claiming to know you. But after talking to her, I realized that she mistook you for another person”
I became obsessed with what the lady had to tell me for the several weeks. What’s it about Bertha that I didn’t know? Has Bertha been cheating on me? No, no. she can’t do that. Or is she having a strange disease? Ooooooooohoh, what at all has this lady got to tell me. Well, I took my phone and called her. She gave me directions to her house.
“The last time you said you’ve something to tell me concerning my fiancée, what’s it?”
“Before I can answer your questions, I need to ask you some first. First of all, how long have you known Amanda?”
“I told the other time that she’s not Amanda, her name is Bertha”
“Okay, how long have you known Bertha?”
“For about eight years now”
“Where did you meet her?”
“At school. Listen, I’m not here to be interrogated. You said you want to tell me something and that’s primarily the reason why I’m here. So be fast about it”
“Relax young man”
“Then just tell me woman, I haven’t got the time’
“Do you know of her relatives?”
“She doesn’t have any. They all died in a motor accident and she was the only survivor”
“That’s what she told you, right?”
“Yes”
“Young man. I ….. I kno-o-w the woman you are going to marry”
“and so what? Is that the reason why you called me?”
“I ………….. I … I … mean, I know everything about her”
“Oh yeah. Tell me; like the colour of her pants, the number of pubic hairs in her ampits”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Just shut up and listen to what I’ve got to tell you”
I turned my back to see whether the command was directed to somebody else behind me. I can’t believe she is now being harsh on me.
“Did you tell me to shut up?”
”You are going to marry a ghost”
“You invited me here to …… what did you say?”
“I said you are going to marry a ghost.”
“Oh woman, it is not your fault. I blame myself for honouring the invitation of a psychologically imbalanced being like you”
“Young man, the woman you’re going to marry is my late step-sister who died of cancer ten years ago in the United Kingdom”
”my lady, be careful lest you cross the thin line”
“Excuse me”. She climbed the stairs. She came back holding some documents.
“I will give you the benefit of the doubt but have a look at these documents”
“How are they related to our conversation?”
“Just open it”
It is not possible. No, this can’t be happening. Right in my palms was the obituary of Bertha. I was fidgeting uncontrollably and was speechless. I felt like I was about to faint and with a strong force yelled,
“This can’t be possible. You are playing expensive jokes with me, woman”
“Why do you still not believe her?” That was a response from behind me. The voice was familiar and it is the voice that has kept me company and offered me comfort for the past eight years. The voice that sings lullabies for me, encourages me, jokes with me and everything. It was Bertha’s voice!

I WOKE UP AND REALIZED THAT IT WAS ALL A DREAM.

ernest armah
university of Ghana
0277246658